


like a king in exile

by blurhawaii



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Loyalty, M/M, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurhawaii/pseuds/blurhawaii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Given the choice, Esca chose freedom.</p><p>He chose north of the wall and Marcus smiled a dim smile and nodded when he received the answer. The decision was one he had been building up and up in his mind ever since they had returned to Roman occupied soil, shield up and ready for the heavy blow, but it hurt nonetheless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like a king in exile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unbidden_truth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbidden_truth/gifts).



-

 

\- For he seemed to me again like a king,  
Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,  
Now due to be crowned again. -  
D H Lawrence, _Snake_

 

-  
-  
-

 

Jupiter clashed with the giants overhead, his strikes loud and stutter bright in the rapidly darkening sky. Esca was more familiar with the battle sounds of Lugh and Balor echoing across the hills, just as his father had always described it, but now he stared out over the empty chasm remembering how alight Marcus' eyes had appeared over the fire the night before. How breathless he had been to recount the tale from his own youth, how his father had paused at all the right moments, dropped his voice and whispered Jupiter's triumph. Now the two stories twisted together in Esca's head like a snake wrapping its body around a tree branch; it was the only thing holding him up.

Basilius shifted under him, feeling the tension in his arms. He wanted to move away from the edge and Esca absently patted his neck to calm him. Agricola, now riderless, was long gone. Esca couldn't blame her. She was heading inland where ground was solid underfoot and unlikely to break away and fall like dead weight into the unknown below.

Esca didn't have that luxury. He could only watch as the jagged edge of the cliff continued to erode away before his eyes, shedding huge chunks of rock and handfuls of yellow grass like a brutal rain shower.

Agricola had been fortunate not to be dragged down with it; Marcus was not so lucky.

Another clash of weapons. Another answering crackle in the air.

Their battle raged on while Esca felt his heart cease to beat. He had lost many things in his life and it seemed the Gods were not finished with him yet.

Marcus had finally gone where Esca could not faithfully follow. It was all for nothing.

 

-

 

Given the choice, Esca chose freedom.

He chose north of the wall and Marcus smiled a dim smile and nodded when he received the answer. The decision was one he had been building up and up in his mind ever since they had returned to Roman occupied soil, shield up and ready for the heavy blow, but it hurt nonetheless.

It was no secret that Marcus had consumed Esca to the point where he was full and famished at the same time, devouring everything Esca had offered him in friendship and past that, but freedom was more than a signature on a scroll and it was about time Marcus truly recognised that.

Freedom of choice; in the very least Marcus could offer it on his knees with open palms.

And yes, Esca chose freedom and it told Marcus all he needed to know.

 

-

 

"We shall finally experience a real hunt in a real land," Esca promised one evening as they made a walk into town. The offer was fresh off his idea of travelling north and the implied joint effort shocked Marcus. Esca was walking his customary two paces behind Marcus' shoulder but they collided when Marcus stopped.

"And I would be glad to see it," Marcus breathed, his chin dropped to his chest, and he could not look at Esca, could not let him see the mixture of guilt and relief on his face at being included.

He could not let him know the restlessness that had plagued him ever since the eagle of his father's legion had ceased to be the sun, moon and stars for him. Especially now as his gaze had shifted to something much closer in its absence. Something so close in fact that the mere heat of his breath, the smell of his skin and the steadying grasp of his hand on his arm was like a hit of sal-ammoniacus, setting his senses on fire.

Marcus was not used to being a man without purpose and lately it showed in the most dishonourable ways.

He was endlessly thankful that Esca knew just the right moments to reach back.

"We can leave whenever you are ready," Esca went on gently. "Your Uncle might even be glad to see the back of us."

The past month had been a haze of bed rest, a view of a ceiling that Marcus would be glad to forget, and Esca's experienced hands working a muscle that had been torn apart and held roughly together too many times to ever heal properly. What Marcus translated unbidden was _when you have become less of a burden_ and he hated himself for it.

"What about now?"

The words tumbled out of Marcus' mouth like blood spilling from an open wound, no amount of pressure was going to keep them down.

And Esca's expression was unsettled to say the least. He didn't dishonour Marcus further by looking pointedly at his leg but the long considering pause made Marcus flush so badly his restraint was wasted. The dry chuckle when it came was much worse.

"Maybe best to wait for the sun," he said and then, as though he was trying to quell a child, he rapped his knuckles against the scarred lines on Marcus' forearm. Marcus' hands were clenched into fists but he dropped everything at the touch. "The creatures of the forest are as bound to the sunrise as you and I. You will see."

Marcus was endlessly thankful that Esca also knew when to distance himself because with that, Esca set off back down the path towards town.

Finding no fault in his words, Marcus followed.

 

-

 

"Tell me about your Gods."

Marcus lifted his gaze from the hypnotic pull of the fire, surprised. Esca was fully occupied with dragging a knife through a bruised apple but the gentle show of his hands proved nothing of his innermost feelings. Marcus opened his mouth wordlessly and closed it again, giving himself time to think.

"Surely you have heard all there is to know." It rang hollow over the fire. "I only mean..." What did he mean? When he shut his eyes Marcus could still sometimes picture Esca standing in the arena, straight-backed and chin held high, looking like a bright spot in a sea of darkness, and what he meant was simply that.

What Marcus had thought to be his final words before the chariot blotted out the sun had certainly been a plea to Mithras and poor Esca must have heard it all from every soul that passed through the arena. From every man that was then just a thing, begging for a quick death.

Juice dribbled down past Esca's wrist and he naturally brought the sweetness up to his lips. His gaze was fixed on a point right of the fire, nowhere near Marcus, which was for the best as Marcus suddenly found he could not speak. It didn't matter in the end because Esca waded through the mud and mess of all he words Marcus couldn't say without a pause for breath.

"They whispered for Gods of war most nights. Lugh, Apollo, Mithras. That, I didn't understand." Esca cut off a slice of apple and bit down on it hard. "I couldn't see how dying on a whim of an audience was dying with honour, no matter who you prayed to."

A branch snapped on the fire, made brittle from the heat, and Marcus felt very much the same listening to Esca. Complete dread at an oncoming wave of significance.

"I didn't pray for anything until I was in the dirt. And then it was only to see my family again."

The air itself was thick with heat. A precipice to a storm. Nothing like the bitter cold that welcomed them the last time they traveled so far north. Marcus' hands were uncommonly slick with sweat and he pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

It was only then that Esca had finally sought his eyes over the fire. There was a soft smile on his face as he continued. "Then you rose from the crowd, Marcus. I was the one moments from death and you somehow looked worse. Struggling to stand, bruised eyes, sweat on you brow." As rare as the sun on a cloudy day, Esca paused to make an amused sound, a soft exhale of air that was almost lost under the noise of the forest. "You managed to change a crowd in seconds, Marcus, handing me back my life. I think about it often, about how you brought about something that no God had managed yet."

A bright flash lit up the sky then. It broke through the gaps in the leaves and shattered the strange bubble forming around them. Marcus flinched, tearing his eyes away from Esca's almost fond expression to stare through the fire instead. A rumble of thunder came soon after and Esca went straight back to his apple, seemingly unaffected by both, while Marcus fought to catch his breath.

He had taken so much from Esca; his death and his subsequent life and still he could smile with such softness that no one deserved. It wasn't right. The coil of fierce strength that used to reside under Esca's skin making him as dangerous as the animals they hunted had now mellowed. It made Marcus sick to think he had done that. Caged something to the point that it believed it belonged there.

He was drowning in Esca's regard, almost angry at the fact that Esca was happy to give it. The sight of him sucking juice from his skin may have thrilled Marcus in all the wrong ways but it just marked itself as another way Marcus had failed him.

He made a decision in that moment.

"My father," he started, pushing past the lump in his throat, "he used to tell me storms were Jupiter doing battle."

Opposite, Esca sat up straighter, clearly interested.

If this was to be their last night together; Marcus wasn't going to waste it.

 

-

 

They had made a habit of waking before sunrise but after a week they had caught nothing but the tail-end of animals wisened enough to survive the spring and thrive into the summertime. Marcus' gait was heavier now though Esca kept him close all the same. The promise of a real hunt was all but forgotten between them the moment they left the reach of Roman eyes.

Marcus was watching Esca, who in turn was simply watching a wolf mother herd her two cubs towards water, when he first spoke.

"You should stay," he said, proud of the way his voice didn't waver.

Esca continued to watch the cubs with rapt attention. "Rain is on the way," he whispered, in answer. "This time of year, once it starts it never stops. It might be time that we started home."

Marcus tried again, "I think you should stay," and this time his words carried far enough that the mother's ears pricked up, turning in their direction. On instinct Esca barred his arm across Marcus' chest and guided them back several steps. "Esca-"

"I heard you, Marcus." Esca's voice was clipped tight and not because of the threat of wolves.

"You should stay," Marcus said once again and this was the way he had rehearsed it in his head; if he tried to say it any other way, it would come out wrong.

In the distance the mother circled her cubs just as Esca circled him. Two sets of wild eyes watched him now and Marcus relaxed into it. Esca's sharp gaze tracked the drop in his shoulders, the wear on his face, the calm acceptance, and pushed back roughly. He all but walked Marcus backwards through the forest, tripping and stumbling their way until the treeline broke and their horses stamped their feet in greeting.

Esca went straight to Basilius and stroked his flank. "Why are you doing this?"

And the hard part was over, Marcus thought, he only wished it was easier to stand his ground when his leg wanted so much to collapse under him.

"You're free now, Esca. But sometimes I think you have forgotten."

A spark reminiscent of old spread through them both when Esca made a sudden lunge in Marcus' direction. But he stopped himself before they both spilled over onto the ground and Marcus tipped his head as if to prove his point. He would have taken every punch Esca offered him and thought no less of him, though it's possible that said more about Marcus than it did Esca.

"Is this about what I said last night? About the arena?"

"You speak of it as though I had done you a favour, Esca. You and I both know it was no such thing."

"I wouldn't be here now if you hadn't."

And Marcus would never take that back. It was true. A thousand lifetimes and he would always save Esca and Esca would save them both. It was what he did after that that mattered.

"I took that decision away from you. Just as I dragged you on a course that wasn't yours to take. There are no words to describe what I owe you, my friend, for all of your help. This is the best I can offer you."

"By what? Abandoning me where I have made enemies in your name. I don't belong here anymore than you do, Marcus. Not now. At least on the other side if those walls, I had you, we had each other. I guess I was wrong when I thought that was enough."

"I guess you were."

It was with the heaviest of hearts that Marcus turned away and busied himself with getting Agricola ready to ride. When the hard shove came at his back, it surprised him.  
"No, Marcus. You're the one who is wrong here." Esca punched out again, clipping Marcus' arm as he steadied himself. "You say you are doing this for me, like the noble soldier you are, but how is this any different? If you leave me here, how is that my decision?"

"I-"

"Did you ever stop to think that with my freedom I chose you?"

They were both breathing hard. The storm the previous night had done little to dissipate the humidity in the air and even by the coast it sat on their shoulders like a wet blanket. Esca's hands were curled in Marcus' shirt, his skin hot through the material, and when Marcus shivered they cinched tighter like a noose.

"I came back for you, Marcus. Just like I promised. I thought that was answer enough."

After the longest pause, Marcus swallowed around a dry mouth. "Maybe...maybe I _should_ be making your decisions for you after all. You clearly make bad choices."

Esca broke away, letting Marcus fall back into Agricola. It was the wrong thing to say but Marcus had nothing rehearsed for the direction this was going.

"Why are you doing this?" Esca asked again but this time it was more of a plea aimed at the sky than a real question.

Marcus still felt compelled to answer. "I am afraid," he said, flat and honest.

Esca deigned to turn around and hear him out. "Of what?"

"I am afraid that if you stay I am going to continue to take from you until there is nothing left, until you are no longer yourself. I see it happening."

Esca laughed but it was the bitterest sound Marcus had ever heard. "Then I really don't understand," he said, "because I would give you everything Marcus, just as I know you would me."

Marcus shook his head. A tirade of guilty images filled his mind, Esca in every one; sometimes smiling up at him sun shining behind like a halo, other times sharing a pointed look with him over a meal whenever a dignitary was invited to his uncle's table and stumbled to find Esca there instead, occasionally the heated anger right before he threw himself between their horses to choke him in the mud, most often him digging the pads of his fingers into the meat of Marcus' thigh with a look of complete concentration. "No," Marcus sighed, "not everything. I wouldn't do that to you."

Whatever emotion had passed over Marcus' face through all of that, be it the wistfulness, the resignation or just the lust, Esca caught it. His eyes lit up and, even though he was a picture of uncertainty clutching his own elbow, he started to close the gap between them.

"Is that what all this is about?" With every word, Esca inched closer. "You and your foolish honour, Marcus. It will be the death of us both."

Esca was not only close now, he was leaning up on his toes while trying to drag Marcus down to meet him. Just before their mouths slanted together, Marcus turned his head and an annoyed puff of hot air hit his cheek instead.

In a strangled voice he said, "You don't owe me this," because he wanted Esca to understand, really needed it. He felt Esca nod, skin rubbing against glorious skin.

"That's right," he said, leaning in, "I am giving it."

 

-

 

Darkness weighed heavily on Marcus as though it was a physical object. He could not move his limbs, his breath coming fast and shallow in the small space he found himself in. The echo of tumbling rocks still rang in his ears along with the faint sound of thunder and the memory of raised voices and raw mouths. With his head throbbing as it was, it was easy to confuse them all.

Marcus wondered for a brief moment if he was dead and panic gripped him as he tried to pat down his body, struggling to remember whether or not he had any coins tucked away to pay for his crossing. It was a frightening thought; one that took precedent over all others.

Until, that is, a thin beam of light cut through it all, as cleanly as an arrow slicing through a mid-morning sun, coming to rest right above his heart. It carried warmth and hope and Marcus reached for it with all his strength. He was no stranger to dark dreams and this felt similar in the way he could push and push and never make any progress.

But the beam widened. Growing until the light stung his eyes and tears stained his face. His saviour was giving him strength enough to fight and so he did.

The huge boulders piled up around him caught against each other as he pushed causing a screeching sound that made Marcus want to clamp his hands over his ears. The pain in his leg came and went with the crescendo, a steady reminder that he was alive, if not well, for now. And with a final great show of strength the rocks tumbled away and Marcus had no choice but to fall to his hands and knees.

He was in a cave, he registered, faintly lit by a flickering torch someone had wedged between two rocks. Marcus absently noted that the flickering must have meant that an open channel of air could pass through and traced the curved walls around, finding nothing until-

Esca.

Esca stood in the centre of the cave. He was shining eerily bright despite the dirt and cuts littering his body and, although he was not moving, he was holding out his hand ready for Marcus to take.

And sorrow was a funny thing; Marcus had been struck with many blades in his life, tore his leg to pieces many times over too, but nothing hurt more than this. There was a smear of fresh blood on Esca's cheek and Marcus broke at the sight of it.

On his knees he cried. On his knees he prayed for the strength to do Esca no further harm. On his knees he gave a full body shudder as Esca stepped closer to press an open palm to his face.

"I thought I'd lost you," Esca breathed and it was an echo of another life when his fingers curved around the shell of Marcus' ear. It brought with it another wave of tears. The kind that Esca couldn't hope to stop, could only wait out, until eventually Marcus had grieved enough for them both.

"On your feet," Esca ordered, so easy and unfairly kind. "We need to keep moving."

But the fall had broken something in Marcus besides his heart and he didn't need to look down to know blood was painting the dirt under his knees. "I don't think I can."

The way Esca nodded and gingerly began maneuvering under Marcus' arm didn't fill him with confidence either. A quick one, two, three and Esca heaved them both upright. The cave walls swam, dipping in and out of obscurity, but they stayed up long enough for Esca to gain momentum towards a shadowy corner of the cave.

There was a gap in the rocks about two feet wide. Gnarled and mysteriously dark, it didn't look inviting. Marcus spared a parting glance at the lit torch they were leaving behind before Esca's calm voice broke in, assuring him they wouldn't need it. Trusting Esca was easy.

The struggle cut into their skin. Rough rocks and unsteady feet were a bad combination. In the dark trawl all Marcus had to guide him was Esca. So he closed his eyes against the black and thought to himself, if this was death after all, he was content with what he was allowed.

They continued on and it didn't take long for the crushing weight of the walls to lessen. One weak foot in front of the other inevitably brought them to the next open space. But when Marcus slowed, lethargy and blood loss all rolled into one man, Esca tugged sharply with the hand around his waist. _Do not stop,_ he warned and under the cadence of his words Marcus heard a curious noise. A noise almost soft enough to be the beating of a butterfly's wings had Marcus not also been able to feel the effects gently moving his hair.

"Is that-"

The moment the sound left his mouth, the wings took flight. A cacophony of wind came down from above, the likes of which Auster himself could not have achieved. They ducked their heads, making a poor-mans shield wall out of their arms and braced themselves against the creatures of the cave. Only, instead of the leathery skin of bats and sharp teeth nipping at their skin, dark feathers floated down past their faces.

Marcus managed to catch one with a clumsy grasp into nothing. It's soft grain was a shock and it brought to mind the tear along Esca's cheek, shiny with blood. _Do not stop,_ he had said, and Marcus knew now that he spoke from experience.

With their combined hustle they almost bounced off the next wall when they reached it. This gap was thinner, asking more of them, and while Esca threw himself towards it, Marcus felt as though he was moving in slow motion, belated in allowing their limbs to untangle in order to fit.

Esca went first but just as he was about to drag Marcus through behind him something heavier than feathers began to rain down from the ceiling. It skipped down Marcus' shoulders like a rock skimming a lake. There was so much of it, all at once, that Marcus had no trouble catching some in his cupped hands. He might have truly believed he was on a strange journey through the underworld because his immediate instinct was to bring the object to his mouth. A single touch to his lips and the smell of freshly baked bread filled his senses. It was a testament to his sluggish brain that this still registered as odd. He might have even eaten it then and there and damned himself had Esca not reached out of the darkness and guided him out.

They continued on and the weight bearing down on them lessened yet further.

In the next room light bled out from between the rocks, painting a glow around Esca that suited him perfectly. As the room opened up Marcus spotted another lit torch and under that a kindled fire. The scent of cooking meat permeated the air.

Esca's hand never left its place wrapped firmly around Marcus' wrist. They knew better than to be tempted and they passed through without glancing back at he feast laid out for them.

At this point, each step was agony. Sweat was pouring down Marcus' face from the strain and his breath was coming in pants, hot and heavy while barely filling chest. He counted his steps, high into the twenties, and on twenty-nine his foot came down with a resounding splash.

Just like that, the floor rushed up to meet him, ripping his hand from Esca's to land in a chilled puddle of water.

"Esca," he called. But Esca carried on without him and with that went any strength Marcus had left.

 

-

 

"Marcus. Marcus, wake up." A light tap on his face roused Marcus enough to take in a hollow sounding voice but not quite enough to get him to open his eyes. "You cannot leave me, Marcus," the voice added, breaking in the middle, and it was that broken noise that made him stir.

He cracked open an eye and was met with the brightest of lights. Not the sun but Esca's shaky look of wonderment. Behind him stood a wide open mouth of a cave, trickling water back out to sea. It was possibly Marcus' cave but his memory after falling was hazy at best and when he flexed his fingers there was no soft feather to be found. He was lying in the shallow stream, head and neck resting on Esca's folded knees and it was too easy for Esca to drop his mouth to Marcus' sweaty forehead and leave it there.

When he spoke, the words came muffled. "The slow climb down here nearly killed me. Only you could survive it all in a rush."

It was said with such fondness, such sharp humour, that Marcus would not, could not understand how he ever thought he could change the man. Nothing could dampen the spirit of a man that believed he had everything. Marcus finally knew that. They were bounded together in a way that defied life and death. He _had_ saved Esca once upon a time and no matter the truth Esca had saved them both too.

The world may have seen Esca as a trained hound prostrate at his feet but they were wrong. He was the sun all along.

 

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End file.
